Humility
by Blubber Boy
Summary: Lincoln is sad. Lyra is sad. Lemy is sad. They've all sinned. But they're getting better, learning to cope with loss & to love each other as a family. A father, a son, & a daughter.
1. I Feel Sick

Sick. Lincoln thought he already knew what that meant. It meant being affected by an illness, physical or mental. But why? Why had this changed? Why did he feel sick now? He wasn't ill. He _knew _he wasn't ill.

But deep down he knew why. He had only ever felt sick this way twice in his life: once when his parents kicked him out of the house, and the other when his girlfriend left him with their child to pursue fame. But he never felt it this intensely. Never this _intensely._

He called his work about it. He couldn't work for a while. He was sick. At least that's what he told them. He didn't want to go into detail about _why _or _how_. It was already enough that he had to know, god forbid he tell other people.

His work accepted it of course, he hardly ever took days off. Three years without so much as a bump in his work ethic. He was in the art business, comic books mostly. Although that's all the information anyone would get from him. He didn't like talking about things much anymore.

Ever since the sickness started, he would sit in his bed thinking. Never about anything in particular. Just stuff. His childhood, what he'd have for dinner, where did he leave his car keys, maybe he should just get up & play Halo.

But he wouldn't get up. Three days and three nights he would lay in bed, never sleeping, at least never any longer than an hour or two at a time, and never getting up for anything other than a drink of water or to use the toilet. By the second night he was already smelling like a sewer.

By the third night he finally got up to make himself some cereal, numb to the fact that the milk had gone bad. He was stunned to see it had been three days. Eventually he felt the tears fall down his face. It didn't even feel like he was crying. His eyes were just leaking. At about halfway through finishing his muesli did he break down.

The funeral was held on a Thursday.

Friends & family had come out from the woodwork to see her off. Her final goodbye. Her final song. Ironically the song being played was a song by SMOOCH. His favorite band. At least his favorite twelve years ago. He'd gotten more into reggae lately, a lot of Bob Marley.

It still didn't change from the fact that it broke his heart.

The entire service was a blur to him. Even his parents were there, although they never said a word to him. The only solace of interaction between them was his father looking at him with a smile & a nod before consoling his wife. His mother had been bawling her eyes out. Lincoln wondered why though. She never loved her, so why was she shedding tears for her?

Every time he looked down to the funeral transcript, he could feel his stomach tying in knots. The writing was in green.

In fucking _green._

His angel wouldn't be caught dead with anything to do with green.

Oh.

He wanted to rip the thing to shreds. But every time he looked down, he saw the photo they'd picked out for her. Her beautiful chestnut locks, her adorable brown eyes. He looked down to the writing once again.

'In Loving Memory of Luna Loud'

He wasn't ill, but Lincoln felt sick.

Lemy's mother was a strange woman, but he loved her all the same. She was his hero, his mentor, his loving mother. Although Lyra never seemed to see it that way. His big sister always had a way of ruining things.

The boy was always trying to impress his mother. She would always say he could be anything he wanted to be. But the only thing he wanted to be was like his mother.

A rock-star.

And to Luna, he was always her little rock-star. And Lyra was always her little rockette.

Lyra would say that was sexist.

Lemy didn't know what that meant.

Lyra was a stickler. One of the worst in the world. It was always, 'Don't chew with your mouth open Lem', or 'You have to bathe at least once a day'. And then there was the situation with that stupid book of hers.

She was always quoting that book.

She had this odd habit of checking for it in every motel they stayed in, and at every meal they took she was always talking about this girl named 'Grace'.

'We must say grace before we eat Lem'. Why did he have to talk about this girl before he ate? It wasn't her food, so why don't they say 'Lemy' before they ate? That made more sense than Grace.

Things only got worse with Lyra the night their mother disappeared.

For two days they waited. Two days in the hotel, wondering… worrying… something must have gone wrong.

Something did go wrong.

Lyra didn't say much about it, but he knew that they weren't going to be seeing their mother anymore.

She had gone to a better place, as Lyra put it.

To start with he wondered, what would be a better place than being with your kids or rocking out on stage. But he wasn't totally stupid. He figured it out soon enough. He wished he didn't. The funeral was one of the worst places he had ever been to. He hated it. He hated being up on the podium, talking about how great his mother had been. He didn't like the idea that his mom wasn't listening to him cherish her. He just wanted one more hug. One more tuck in. One more jam session. One more _something_. It definitely wouldn't be enough time, but at least he could say goodbye properly.

Lyra didn't let a single thing get past to her brother about the fate of their mother. She was emotionally numb after the incident. It was hard enough for her, if Lemy knew the truth it would break his innocence. Ruin his childhood.

_Destroy him._

She wouldn't do that. Not to him. Not to Lemy. He didn't deserve this.

Just the thought of it made her angry. Made her angry at herself, at the world. But yet, that was nothing compared to the fury she felt for her mother. She was never the responsible one. It always fell towards her to get things done. To wash their clothes; _including _her mother's. To eat healthily. To exercise. And Lyra _loathed _exercise. She assumed she inherited that from her father.

That got her thinking. How was her father? She hadn't seen him for over twelve years, she began to wonder what he'd been doing now. She only remembered two things about her father, one was his quiet nature, the other was his white hair.

Just like her Uncle.

Her uncle was the only real man in their lives, Lyra thought. She would even say that Lemy would agree, & he had the band members on deity status. He was a self-sustaining man. He paid taxes & he was a part of the community.

Their mother's band were more of travelling gypsies than members of a whole.

Until the recent death of their mother, she dreamt of living in a community, going to church, & living with her mother & unknown father. As a normal American family.

Now all she could think of was how much she was going to miss her old life.

Her dream had come true… sort of…

Her mother had always told her & her brother that, should anything happen to her, they would go live with their father. Lemy always got angry at her whenever she spoke so cynically. Now it just felt like a foreboding horror that was always meant to be. The idea of change terrified her.

But for now, all she could do was stare at the casket, holding her brother's hand for comfort. But she kept on telling herself it was for his benefit, that she was comforting him. Even he knew that she was doing it for herself.

They both stared at the casket that held their mother. Lyra could only think that this would have been inevitable. Overdosing usually is when the individual is an addict. It still hurt to think about though.

Her mind only went back. Back to the second day in that confined space that was a motel. Watching the news. Finding out about her poor mother, & switching the TV off as soon as Lemy strolled into the room from the bathroom. Had he heard? She had to tell him if not.

But she would leave out the Heroin.

The bandmates pulled them out of that godforsaken hotel. She prayed day & night that it was all a dream. That she'd wake up.

That her mom was still alive.

She approached the coffin, along with her closest friends & relatives. Her backup singer, bassist & best friend Sam Sharp, the manager & long-time companion, Chester Monk, her sister & favorite comedian Luan Loud, all approaching the coffin as it was lowered.

One last face approached the coffin. Lincoln Loud. Their uncle. She didn't think he was as close as the rest, but she would ask more of it later. He looked her way & had a look of familial love, as melancholy as it appeared. She should probably talk to him, one last time before they were taken to god knows where to meet their father. It baffled her that he hadn't shown up. The only white-haired man she could see in the crowd that showed up was her uncle's. Right now, she'd prefer to live with him.

'And now, we leave Luna to her everlasting peace'

As the coffin lowered, Lincoln was the first of the pack to leave. This tended to be his attitude towards things as of late. He was an introverted geek. Whenever emotion became too much for him, he would try his best to leave the situation. Which is why he was currently outside smoking cigarettes with Clyde McBride, his long time best friend, who'd made a surprise appearance to the funeral.

'Want one?' He offered for what was most likely the eighteenth time. Clyde, however, quickly realized what the phrase was really code for.

'It get's better man' he pointed out, noting his father, Harold's sudden death at the age of forty-eight.

'Scars never leave, but they fade'

For some reason, this helped Lincoln's depression. He needed this. _Something_ to remove the deafening silence. He looked up to the sky, to wonder why god would take away such a treasure to the world. God responded with rain; slow at first, then hard. Dousing his cigarette. Maybe this was a sign to quit smoking.

He doubted he'd listen.

Lyra fiddled with a Rubik's cube left on the table, while Lemy played his video game, some remake of a fantasy game made over twenty years prior. Lyra originally thought it tainted the name of god, being some game about paganistic rituals & shouting like a dragon. Needless to say, their mother allowed him to play it. Although now, she didn't have the heart to stop him from playing.

'Lemy, stop fidgeting' that didn't stop her from exercising her _other_ big sisterly duties.

They were currently waiting in the office of some big name lawyer who had read off their mother's will. The unnamed father of both Lemy & Lyra? He got the majority of the money. She asked for it to be used to take care of the both of them. A grand sum of three million dollars, to the unnamed white haired man. Lyra would never curse, but knowing this man was going to sweep her and her brother off their feet put fire into her belly. He could go to hell for all she cared.

It was a new situation to Lemy. He had no clue who his father was, he just assumed it was the same as Lyra's, only to be told that it was definitely true. He strangely felt closer to his sister. But what really bothered him was this father himself. If he thought he could just walk in & replace his mother, he had another thing coming to him. A massive kick to the balls.

But his thoughts always drifted to his hero. His mother. Sitting on her lap, being read to. Lemy wasn't the smartest kid, in fact, he was pretty sure he was stupid. But that didn't subtract from the fact he could pick out whether or not someone was a bad egg. And this father of his? Was most definitely a bad egg. And he hadn't even met the guy yet. But all he could really do was try and remove his mind from the situation. And what better way to do that than playing video games?

The fancy lawyer had left several minutes beforehand, said something about dealing with another case, although Lemy was pretty sure she just didn't want to take care of any children for the few minutes it took for their father to turn up. What a bitch.

If Lyra caught wind of him saying that, he would be at the bad end of a lecture.

On the other hand, Lyra was too respectful to think any bad thoughts about the lawyer. She's a busy woman obviously. She was disrupted from her thoughts by the door opening. Their uncle, of all people, had made his way into the lawyer's office.

'Hey kids' he spoke, with a somewhat deep, melancholy demeanor. Something one would expect from someone who doesn't have much interaction with people.

'Hey, who's the old man?' Lemy spoke, only to earn a glare from Lyra as she got up to hug her uncle.

'He's our Uncle, Lemy. Now come & say hi' Lyra said, as she got up to hug her estranged relative. She wasn't in the mood for any emotions today, she just wanted to meet her dad & go home to sleep for however long it took for her depression to go away.

'Hi' Lemy spoke simply before going back to his game.

After several awkward minutes of waiting, the lawyer finally came back into the office.

'Ah, Mr. Loud! You've already decided to join us!'

'Uh… yeah' the man said, as simply as the boy who sat near him.

'Well… I suppose we should get started then!'

Lyra, incredibly confused, spoke up.

'W-wait… aren't we meant to be waiting for our father?'

To this, Lincoln seemed to withdraw, as if he wanted to leave the situation entirely. The lawyer on the other hand, seemed more than happy to speak for him.

'Miss Loud, your father is already here!' she chuckled as if Lyra was somewhat simple. She was far from that.

Everything started to make sense, the white hair, the quiet nature, the fact their uncle had shown up to a custody hearing to which they would be sent to live with their father.

Lincoln was their father.

Their Uncle. Their father.

Lyra did as her uncle, turned father had done. And withdrew. Her emotions had drained her entirely. Her only response was to back out.

Lemy on the other hand, had looked up from his game & heard the news at just the right moment. His hatred for his father had left him.

'Wait, our uncle is our dad too? Awesome!'

Lyra wasn't ill. But she was sick.


	2. Teen Spirit

Their uncle's house had a lot of clocks.

There seemed to be at least one in every room. She supposed she would have to get used to it if she were to be living here with her uncle.

She meant her father.

She didn't know what to call him.

Although, she supposed he'd indirectly given her & her brother a few new labels. Inbred freaks was one of the nicer terms that floated through her mind.

Poor Lemy. It was the first thing she thought of when she found out. Poor Lemy. He had no idea what this truly meant for them. She'd heard of a few people having incestuous relationships in the past: Sam's little brother having a relationship with his cousin for one. But never this close.

Never siblings.

Never her own _mother._

She'd thought of her mother as a free spirit, but never to this extent. But the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. She had never been with another person for as long as she'd known her. She'd overheard her having some sort of relationship with Sam in the past, but they'd never acted on anything for as long as she'd known the both of them.

She was _fucking _her brother.

The bile on her breath became the strongest scent to her. Everything disgusted her, everything sickened her. Left was right. Up was down. Everything she ever knew & respected about her mother & father, was a _lie._

She felt betrayed.

How could she live with the man who fucked her mother.

It was pathetic. _He_ was pathetic.

Which is why most of her time was spent hunched over the toilet bowl in in his house. She would never call this place home. As long as she had function in her brain she would refuse such a horrible reality.

The smell of the room was filled with the smell of her purged stomach contents, along with the hint of lemon. That fake hint of lemon that snuck into her nostrils as she heaved her emotions into the porcelain. Fake. Like her psychopathic father. Sooner or later he'll show his true colors. He'll show what he's truly capable of. This pathetic & depressed hermit act has to end sometime. Then, she & Lemy will make their escape.

Lemy was not faring too much better, although Lincoln wasn't helping the situation.

While Lemy's only interactions pertained to asking his newly found dad what his mother was like, Lincoln's only interactions with his son revolved around cooking a basic dinner for them & telling them which room was theirs. He decided to let them use his bedroom while he'd take the couch.

After he had changed the sheets of course.

He hadn't slept for three days.

He'd lay on the couch, thinking. This time, actually having his mind set on something. How much of a shitty parent he was going to be.

He could only imagine how much his children hated him. His son asking about his mother? Clearly, he was looking for ways to compare Luna to him. He would never be as good as Luna.

When he saw them for the first time under casual circumstances, at least in terms of regular clothing, they seemed to be exactly the same as her. A rocker's mantra could be seen from a mile away in the way they were perceived. He could never relate to them.

He was a nerd, through & through.

If he could hold a candle to Luna, it would be if he blew his brains out like Kurt Cobain. The way a true rocker went out. At least then they would get his life insurance.

It just made him want to cry.

He couldn't do it, but in the same vein he couldn't leave them at an orphanage. Luna would hate him if he did that. It didn't matter, the only thing that mattered is that they were happy.

In a strange way, he already loved them. They were the only link he had to his angel.

He would deal with whatever challenge came his way.

The rest of the night was a mixture of tears & unconsciousness.

Lemy felt strange when he woke up. His dad had asked whether he & Lyra were okay sleeping in the same bed while he cleaned up his study to turn into their new bedroom, to which Lyra immediately said that it would be fine. Lemy hated sleeping next to his sister, she was a very erratic sleeper.

She kicked him awake three times that night.

She was stressed.

Whenever she tosses & turns something is bugging her. He guessed she was still hung up about their mother. Actually, the whole reason he talked to his dad at all was because it's what his mom would have wanted. He could imagine her talking to him about it

'You gotta give your dad a chance lil' dude'

It was after he left their new bathroom that he found the man on the couch. He seemed in the zone about something. He realized that he was holding something in his hands. It all made sense why he was so focused.

He was playing a video game.

He couldn't bother him now, he knew he hated being bothered when he was playing his handheld. But it just interested him too much.

He had never played a TV console before.

Sneaking up behind his dad, he watched him. He had seen that kind of game before. It was an old one.

Lemy couldn't help but stay transfixed to the screen. How could anyone die so much & yet remain so focused?

Lincoln, on the other hand, _was_ completely & utterly focused. But not on the video game. He couldn't focus on the super-soldier annihilating aliens, resulting in death, after failure, after defeat.

His mind was set on self-doubt. Doubting his own parental attributes, trying to deny any sense of duty.

Duty.

He needed to make them breakfast.

How could he be so stupid to forget about a basic human need. Just because he didn't have breakfast often didn't mean he had the right to deprive his children of it.

It was the moment he locked eyes with Lemy that he screamed.

Then Lemy screamed.

It was a miracle they didn't wake up Lyra, like God himself decided to intervene.

'Lemy!' He really didn't mean to shout. He unfortunately just forgot that he had two extra members living in his house with him. The little boy landed on his backside out of fear, something Lincoln found oddly humorous. If he was anyone else, he would have chuckled.

If he was who he used to be, he definitely would have.

'I wasn't doing anything!' He really wasn't. Strangely enough, it was one of the few times he _wasn't _up to anything. He kind of wanted to teach the man how to play.

He didn't seem that good at games.

And being the social butterfly he was, Lincoln didn't make any attempt to continue the conversation, & awkwardly walked away to make their breakfast. Kids ate cereal right?

Lemy, however, decided to continue his dad's progress. He'd never played this game before. His dad wouldn't mind right?

'Hey Lincoln?'

Lincoln felt a sort of hurt at hearing his name. It wasn't so much the name itself, but more who it was coming from. He expected this more from his daughter, rather than her much younger sibling.

Although, he couldn't blame him. He'd only really lived him for three days, & he'd only know of his father's existence for the same amount of time. It's not like he made any attempt to actually get to know him own son.

Something, in that brief second of thought, changed in Lincoln.

He swore, that he would be a father to these children. He would fail, he knew that for a fact. But at least he could die with a smile on his face, finally fulfilling his angel's unspoken wish.

'Yes Lemy?'

Lyra's dreams were oddly pleasant. It consisted mostly of her as a baby with her parents. Nothing more. Just doing simple things. Like her mother scolding her for chewing on something plastic, or sitting on the couch with her parents, just watching TV.

She felt… peaceful.

Until she got a look at her father's face.

Her uncle Lincoln. That… horrible man. Why was God punishing her? What had she done to deserve his wrath? This revelation was Unchristian & Paganistic for sure. Only the blasphemous & heathens had incestuous relations.

Right?

Needless to say, she woke up with a start.

Her sweat, dripping coldly from her brow, ran down her face and dripped onto the mattress. Strangely enough, the first thing she saw was the Cross.

There was a Cross. Hanging opposite the bed. A simple one, made of wood; most likely oak, judging by the texture & the color. A light beige, suited to the calmness of the house.

This confused her. She could have sworn the man would be a pagan, or at the very least an atheist. But…

A Christian? The Cross wasn't even inverted.

By the time she reached the bathroom, she felt like her world had changed color.

She felt filthy. Like her pores were soaked in tar. It already hurt her to think she was related to someone so dirty, let alone directly; but for that same person to be a man of God?

She spent roughly twenty minutes deeply scrubbing. Her once fragile pale skin, now a deep pink. To her, it felt like the slightest touch to her sensitive flesh would slice her open. Somehow, her tears managed to redden her skin more, if only slightly.

She looked down at herself as the water sprayed her scalp. She hadn't shaved anywhere since the accident, & it started to take its toll.

Lyra never liked body hair. She found it to be unruly & messy. Unwomanly, was her main reasoning behind it. Although, she did occasionally bring up the true reasoning to be that it was something to do with her mother.

Lyra always thought of her mother to be something of a tomboy. More so when she found out about her mother's shaving habits; she had none.

She wanted someone feminine in her life. So why not make it herself?

But now the hairs seemed to crawl up her skin like vines to a tree. It wasn't the best of situations, but in all honesty, she was too depressed to do anything about it.

In the end, she really didn't care.

Lemy was somewhat stunned at the revelation.

Here he was, thinking his father had some kind of disability when it came to video games.

He could not have been more wrong.

The had decided to battle each other the game. A one on one battle scenario where the one true gamer would reign supreme & lord it up all over the loser.

After the first few deaths, Lemy realized that his dad wasn't the invalid he had first taken him as & expected him to make the fatherly decision & let him win to let him salvage some pride.

Lincoln was not that kind of dad.

He was, in fact, the kind of dad who saw it fit to use his skills to wipe the floor with his offspring to teach them a lesson: never underestimate his father's skills at gaming. Ever. Again.

'It's a good idea to search for the "Active Stealth" power up' Lincoln stated, nonchalantly.

'You mean like this?' Lemy found exactly what his father was talking about.

Only to be shot by his father a split second after picking it up.

It was strange, despite having his ass handed to him on a silver platter, Lemy was really enjoying himself. He'd never had anyone to play with, other than Chunk. Even then, it was few & far between. He felt that not only had he found a gaming partner, but he'd also found someone he could learn a thing or two from in gaming. It was a win-win.

'Double Kill!'

He hoped he'd get used to the frequent deaths though.

Lyra had made her way out of the bathroom, sporting nothing more than a purple tank top, some cheap sweatpants, & blue socks. She didn't want to go out of her way to look approachable today, she just wanted one day, one simple day, where she could not think about anything & just be. Just exist for twenty-four hours.

'Your breakfast is on the counter, Lyra' her roommate spoke.

Breakfast? He made breakfast for her?

Peering onto the counter, she saw a bowl of chocolate flakes mixed in with berries. Not the healthiest option, but she supposed it was a nice gesture.

She shook her head. A nice gesture? She couldn't lose to this man. Lemy needed a proper home, he only needed her & her alone.

Peering over, she saw her supposed father playing a video game with her brother. As much as she felt like wringing his neck, his face had an air of familiarity to it. Like it was someone that actually cared for her. She remembered stories she had heard from her mother about her father. Caring, compassionate stories. He heard that he brought his sisters together often, as well as splitting them into factions. That concept always made her laugh.

Maybe she could give him a chance. Maybe.

Maybe just a small chance.

If he failed, her & Lemy could always leave.


	3. Na Na Na (Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na)

Lemy was dumbfounded at the revelation of his father.

On one hand, he was overjoyed that he actually _had _one.

On the other however, he had so many questions. Like why he abandoned them? How did they meet? Why did he live alone? Why had he abandoned them?

Thinking about it gave Lemy some of the worst headaches.

And another thing; he had a completely different musical taste to their mother's. It was really weird listening to Classical, Reggae & Alternative, when growing up with someone like Luna, one would have their tastes hard wired to Metal, Punk & Grunge. At least he listened to the Foo Fighters.

Lyra kept on saying that their father was like an everyman main character in a Horror novel; Lemy had no idea what that meant, but he could assume it meant nothing good.

But if he was being honest with himself, & Lyra (although he'd try not to, lest she lose her mind), he liked his father. He thought he was really weird for sure, but he wasn't a bad person. Just really really quiet.

If he wanted to get anywhere with him, he'd have to be the one to start their interactions.

It had been five days since they'd shown up on Lincoln's doorstep, & the only real interactions besides video games was him telling them they'd need to start school sometime soon, & that included interactions at meals. He was a very quiet man indeed.

This got Lemy thinking. School? He knew of it, & Lyra was always the one to tutor him, if one of the band members wasn't available anyway. It was always home school, never real school. He couldn't imagine a day where he was with thousands of strangers, being taught by another stranger. He might have an panic attack or something. Lyra's had a few of those, & if he knew anything, it was stress related.

He didn't want to panic _that_ much. God forbid he start yelling like Lyra did.

It was in August, just three months before their mother faced her horrible fate.

And Lyra was losing control.

Lemy had spent the past hour calming her down, telling her everything was fine. Their mother was just on a longer bender than usual. She was screaming about death & how she was dying. It didn't look like she was dying, just that she was wailing a lot.

It was then that he received a heavy hit.

Heavy may be a bit of an overstatement, but it was enough to knock Lemy to the floor, resulting in a somewhat visible black eye. Lemy thought it looked pretty cool, but he was a bit stupefied as to why it was called a _black _eye. It looked more purple than anything.

Eventually Lyra calmed down, although it was another fifteen minutes before she did. She sort of just passed out, no fanfare at all. He assumed it was all the shaking she was doing that caused her to pass out. If it were him, he'd probably be tired too.

So, for the next two hours he listened to his music player, the sound of a high pitched man screaming about teenagers flooding his mind as he drifted off into oblivion.

That was, until he awoke to an even higher pitched scream. Surprisingly, despite his mother's raspy voice, she could still supply a feminine scream. He didn't like hearing his mom scream.

The events that followed involved his mom & sister fawning over him, the latter apologizing profusely to him & chastising their mother for making her worry.

Their mom said she'd try not to do it again.

Ironically, she held up to her promise. Until…

Lincoln found his son crying on the couch, tears streaking out of his eyes as he lay asleep on the brown felt.

'Hey bud, you good?' he debated within himself whether it was a good idea to shake him awake. He decided that, despite their beginnings of a positive relationship that it would be best to not touch him. Not just yet.

Lemy, being the light sleeper he was, woke with a startle, looking up this his odd jumble of relations that was both his father & uncle.

'L-Lincoln?' he spoke wearily. He tried to hold back his croaky voice as he sat with the TV screeching static at him. He must have been watching a movie or something.

'You okay Lemy? You look like you're having a rough time…' his father sat next to him, facing forward, not feeling totally comfortable dealing with those emotions.

Lemy touched his face, feeling the warmth of liquid running down his face. He hated looking like a pussy. He was a man for God's sake. He quickly rubbed away the tears, an unfortunately futile attempt as they still kept running. Lincoln knew what he was doing; it only felt like so long ago that he was in the same position when his Pop-Pop died. He felt a melancholy smirk take his face.

Lemy noticed this & punched him in the side.

'Ow! Lemy what the he-'

'What's your problem? You think you can smile at a time like this? My mommy's dead! An-And you're just here smiling! If you can th-think that you'll just take over her spot & be my dad… then-'

He was dumbfounded to find that his father had wrapped his arms around him, enveloping him into an embrace. It was strong, firm, & undeniably fatherly. Lemy hated how much he felt loved. It was a spot only suited to his mother. So, he did what he felt he had to do…

He kept hitting.

He hit his father's back. He hit his sides. He hit his ribs & his arms. Both of them knew he could go for his more vulnerable area, but he never went close to his nether regions. Eventually, the hits slowed down, being replaced by more frequent sobs, until all that could be heard was full blown crying. His wails could be heard across the hall to the other apartments. Lincoln didn't honestly care, he'd deal with the complaints when the time came. For now, he was going to care for his little boy.

Lemy's tears stained Lincoln's Grey & Yellow T-Shirt, but he didn't care. At least not right now. As for right now, he needed this paternal love. So for once he'd be a _real _man & swallow his pride. He may have just ruined his relationship with his dad, but he'd do his best to salvage it.

He was his dad after all.

Lyra, watching from afar, had been stunned. The very moment Lemy had hit him, she thought her prayers had been answered. She thought that Lincoln had finally blown his chance & her & Lemy would be on the first bus to wherever Lincoln wasn't.

But in a swift change of pace, Lincoln had not punished Lemy, or even hit him, which is what she would have expected from her father. But he had _hugged _him. And after fighting for thirty seconds or so, Lemy was hugging back.

'I just want my mommy back…' Lemy wailed into Lincoln's shirt, muffled yet clear as day.

'I know bud, I know…'

This was against everything Lyra would have thought. Lemy would _never _be this close to anyone but her, Sam & their mother.

How the _hell _had Lincoln managed to build a relationship like that in just five days?

Lyra backed up. If she were honest with herself, she never hated Lincoln, only what he _represented_. Lemy did have a way of seeing the good in people, so she supposed that could've been a factor. But she honestly didn't know what to think. And she didn't have the heart to break the scene up.

Like it or not, Lincoln was here to stay. Whether she liked it or not was up to her, but it wouldn't change the fact.

It felt surreal waking up the next day.

Lincoln had fallen asleep on the couch as per usual, in rather pronounced pain. He noticed that on his arms were small bruises, & could only imagine the size of his wounds under his clothing.

Although once his eyes drifted to the child sleeping next to him, his mind lost all prior focus on his pain & looked towards his son.

He reminded him so much of a younger version of himself, to the point that, minus the long brown locks & undamaged teeth, he was an almost perfect copy.

Almost.

That was until he looked down onto his arms.

He has been earing those tattoo sleeves ever since the funeral. He was almost sure that he was wearing them to commemorate his mother. In fact they almost looked real. _Too _real.

When he touched the kid's arm, he felt nothing but skin.

'What the f-'

After apologizing profusely for waking up the neighbors & Lyra, the three had a long-winded conversation about Lemy's tattoos. And how _far _they truly went.

Putting on his shirt, he explained that he did it to impress his dearly departed mother. Which she was. Unnaturally so.

'Who on Earth puts tattoos on a minor, let alone a nine-year-old?'

'Hey, you've got to admit though, they look pretty cool, right?'

Lincoln took a moment to gather his thoughts, the only one reigning supreme was that if Luna was with them today, he'd more than likely slap her.

'I was very disappointed in him when I found out about it' Lyra spoke up, as if to rectify the situation.

'My one is much smaller…' Lincoln was dumbfounded when he heard his daughter, still a minor aged fifteen, had also gotten a tattoo.

'Why couldn't you two have waited until you were at least in your twenties? At least then you have clear thought about it.' He felt like headbutting the wall. His son was impulsive & his daughter was a hypocrite. He had his work as a father cut out for him.

'Well at least we've got tattoos.' Lemy spoke up, trying to act as if he had one upped his dad. Lincoln actually smiled at this. Maybe this time his son would stop trying to beat him at the game of life & just go with the flow.

Turning around, he lifted the back of his shirt to reveal a large tattoo that spanned from his neck down to the middle of his spine. Three words spanned his back.

Lyra.

Lemy.

And Luna.

Lyra was completely & utterly dumbfounded. It looked like a biker tattoo, fitted with skulls & flames, & looked oddly like a tattoo their mother had.

Come to think of it, she was pretty sure their mother's had spelt out their father's name as well, in its own Picasso fashion. She had no words to describe the awe she felt in that moment. Their father had loved them to the point where he had his body permanently inked with their names.

Lemy however, had more than enough words.

'That's a pretty cool tatt, but why would you get our names tattooed? That seems kind of dumb.'

Lemy's game had been interrupted by a knocking at the door. This really pissed him off because he had reached the infected aliens part of the game Lincoln had been playing.

'Could you get that for me, Lem?' Lincoln called from his study. Recently Lincoln had been trying to keep up on his 'quota', whatever that meant, & had been spending several hours drawing these cool looking pictures. Lemy thought to himself that he should have gotten those ones tattooed instead, but there wasn't anymore room, so he'd have to suck it up.

Pulling the wooden door, he found he was face to face with a pretty girl, about the same age as him, with short blonde hair & darkish skin.

'Uhh… hey?' the girl spoke. Lemy was a bit dumbfounded by her & quickly regained his composure.

'Uh, hey! Hi… there…' he tried leaning against the doorframe to try & look cool, quickly adjusting his headband to compensate for his lack of grace.

'Um, is Lincoln home?'

'Y-yeah! Dad! There's a girl at the door!'

Lincoln could be heard spitting out his caffeinated beverage as he heard his son say the key phrase, "dad". It had been so casual too. Strangely heartwarming how easily he said it. Unfortunately, his moment of warmth was snuffed by the fact he knew he had to answer.

'Yeah Lem, th-that's Muffy. Tell her to come in.' he tried to calm himself, but his smile shone through in beams. He left his station & went to the kitchen to see what Muffy & her mother had brought him this time.

Said girl had placed a Tupperware container on the bench, containing a portion of what appeared to be Italian, Spaghetti or Lasagna it seemed. Although, it would only really be enough to feed one, two at most. Marie, the girl's mother, knew he had a small stomach.

'Hey Lincoln?' she gestured him to come closer to her 'Who's the boy?'

Lincoln giggled at this, answering as simply as he could.

'He's my son Muff, & I have a daughter too.' This stunned the poor girl, for all she knew, Lincoln was a lonely introvert, only ever coming out to for his weekly sun dosage to get food or the occasional video game or comic. He never struck her as the type to have a_ son_, let alone _two_ kids.

'That's cool' she spoke, & then left without another word.

Lemy watched her until she entered apartment 3C. Only three doors down from apartment 3F, _their_ apartment.

'That's Muffy, she's a little shy, but if you want you can go visit her sometime.'

Lemy was stunned, he would be able to see the little angel again?

He'd better act cool, he didn't want to weird her out. Who was he kidding, he was Lemy Freaking Loud.

He was the epitome of _cool._


	4. The Scientist

In a perfect world, creativity wouldn't exist.

That's the mantra Lincoln Loud lived by, no matter how bad things got, he could always get by with his creativity. But right now, he wanted to throw all that out the window & just live a normal life. Maybe have a desk job. Not live deadline to deadline in a desperate hope to get noticed in the world of the graphic novel industry.

He needed a hobby.

Right now, he was slumped in his armchair, lazily watching Lemy play video games, slowly drifting into a tender slumber…

Knock.

What was that?

Knock knock knock.

Oh god please no.

'Lincoln, someone's at the door' his daughter called from her room.

This was the last thing he wanted.

To deal with _people_.

Hoisting himself from his comfort area, he left the loungeroom to answer the door. Whoever it was, was in for a severe tongue lashing. Well, they _would _be, if he wasn't such a nervous wreck.

He should be more assertive.

He opened the door, preparing his passive-aggressiveness in advance, only to be immediately assaulted by a tirade of words he couldn't understand; & being further pushed out of the way by a youthful woman in a lab coat holding a small child.

Lisa.

Shutting the door, he moved towards said woman with a depressive pace; he was too tired to deal with his sister's nonsense. It was hard enough trying to understand the lady let alone talk to her.

Recently, she had been involved in a pharmaceutical lawsuit which some of her patents were revealed to have slight doses of radiation. Not that it really held any issues to her financially.

Still… she hated that her name was tainted by the idea that her products were somehow _futile._

Her child, however, just sat & stared at her mother with an observative yet passive gaze, switching between Lisa & Lincoln.

This was Lulu.

It felt odd that Lulu even came into being. One minute, Lisa disappears for a year, the next she has a two-month-old baby daughter.

Oh, how she dotted over that child.

It reminded Lincoln of the way Luna would watch over Lyra. She would always talk about teaching her the ways of the musician though. Music never left her mind.

He assumed it was the same with Lisa & science.

'I can't stand it Lincoln! They don't understand that radiation does more good than it does evil!'

Shit, how long had he been daydreaming?

'They're worried about you Lis'. I mean, you do tend to go a bit far with things; wouldn't you agree?'

It was the reason he had so many clocks around the house. Sometimes hours could go by like seconds on a watch, & the next thing he knew, it was 3am & the entire day had left him.

How he managed to keep his job & even excel at it baffled him, even to this day.

'It's just not fair!'

She had placed Lulu on the couch next to Lemy, whom, at this point, had resorted to button mashing, his machine gun having ran out & needing to use the pistol. Lulu seemed to enjoy it though, laughing at his misfortune at every chance she got.

He liked her laugh, so he died a few more times to humor her.

Lincoln, on the other hand, had resorted to massaging his sisters' shoulders, a position she found most comfortable since the lawsuit began.

Three weeks.

They'd been living with him for three weeks now.

Lincoln had been on thin ice with Lyra ever since the ice cream incident, & although she'd all but given up on running away, she still couldn't _truly _bring herself to like the man.

Not yet anyway.

Besides, if she were to _really _run away, she'd conspire with Lemy to do so, & the boy had pretty much accepted his new daddy.

The man was the textbook definition of introvert & Lemy was the exact opposite.

How in the good Lord's name did they manage to bond so quickly?

For a split second she considered it had to do with Lincoln being a Satanist & Lemy being an inbred freak.

Only for a split second though. Lemy may be a bit ignorant, but he definitely didn't have anything wrong with him. Nothing she knew about anyway, & she could say she knew the boy better than he knew himself.

And _no one _could take that away from her.

This was how she found herself sitting next to Lulu & Lemy, watching him play video games.

He was driving a car, very poorly, might she add, across a fantastical terrain filled with ultra-futuristic buildings miles in distance.

Her mind kept on bringing up the Devil.

'If you worked for me you can make over ten times what you do now. You know that right?'

Lisa was worried for her brother. She knew he was smart & hated seeing him squander it through a passion that pays lower than a high school janitor.

'You'd be working alongside me, so even if you did mess up, you'd have me cleaning it up'

There was his sister. Even in her most compassionate moments her urge to satisfy her ego still remained. It was his favorite characteristic of hers.

It made him smile.

'I do what I love'

That always shut her up. She couldn't bring herself to take her brother away from what he loves. It'd be like taking the intelligence away from Charlie Gordon in Flowers for Algernon.

It'd be inhumane.

So… she just smiled. She smiled at her brother. She loved him despite his wrongdoings. Despite his quirky behavior. It was why he was the perfect candidate.

She left him pleased with herself. She'd get him to come eventually. It was just a matter of time.

She was never one to shy away from the inhumane.

She would talk with Lulu about it, not that she could understand her. But as a parent, you find yourself talking to your underage children as a source to vent to. It was oddly pleasing.

Lincoln however, found himself trapped within his mind; with no one to talk to, he just screamed into the unknowing abyss.

Was little Lulu glowing?

Five days until they attended school. Five horrifying days.

What if no one liked him? What if there was someone cooler than him? Would it be a fight to the death?

'Don't be stupid Lemy, there's no one cooler than you' He would say to himself.

Only to fall back into the loop. Cooler, fight, no one cooler. Cooler, fight, no one cooler.

Lincoln had excused himself to attend a meeting with his business to discuss the new look of a lowkey superhero with his team, leaving Lyra to look after Lemy. Apparently, this was a big event.

Why was his dad such a freaking nerd?

It was a question he asked as he dug through his father's belongings, trying to find something to entertain himself with. Either that or find something to finally one up his dad with.

He'd find something, he was sure of it. He could almost smell it.

It was in the form of a bar napkin with a number & a name on it. It looked pretty old.

'R. Santiago' I mean he might as well call it right? There's no harm in calling a random number he found in the middle of his father's junk that he'd kept far away from prying eyes. Right?

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Voicemail.

He tried again.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Voicemail.

He tried once again.

Lyra was already angry with Lincoln for the Laptop-Lasagna incident, so when she found Lemy on the phone to a complete stranger yelling at him in Spanish, she found a way to vent her frustrations.

'Who do you think you are? Randomly calling our house & screaming at my brother? I should call the police on you!'

The voice on the other end was taken aback by the sudden barrage of insults thrown their way by this new person. They would give her a piece of their mind.

'Call the police on me? _Perra_, I should be the one calling the police on you! Calling up a phone number in the middle of working hours! _No puedo creer a esta perra._'

Lyra was stunned. She had no idea what a _"Perra" _was, but she assumed it was nothing good. But she bit the bullet & asked for the woman's side of the story.

'So you're telling me you weren't the one who called us?'

'Of course I didn't call you, your idiot brother called _me_! You have already cost me three tips, so you better have a good excuse for interrupting my day!'

Lyra wouldn't stand for some random crazy lady calling her brother an idiot, however she was not against apologizing, considering her brother's tendency to get into trouble at the least likely of times.

'Look I'm sorry,' then she got an idea.

'If you want, you can take it up with my father when he gets home'

'I very much would young lady! What's his name?'

Her anger spoke volumes through her voice, & Lyra couldn't be more happy.

'Lincoln Loud miss'

'L-' the woman's voice caught in her throat 'Lincoln L-L-Loud?'

Lincoln was having a field day.

On one hand he was thrilled on the fact Ace Savvy was getting an entire character redesign, considering the fact that for the past three years he's had been, in his own words, a "total pussy-shit who couldn't hold his own against the real Ace Savvy".

However, on the other, he had to talk to people. This was definitely one of his least powerful qualities as a human being. He couldn't hold his own as a presenter.

Which was why he was happy he was working with someone like Clyde McBride.

Clyde was resourceful, being the only one from their youth who'd actually kept that quality. Knowing him, he could turn a room full of Nazis into a room full of Communists within a moment's notice.

It was easy, Lincoln was the Brain, Clyde was the Brawn. The perfect duo.

Like Batman & Robin if Robin was a social outcast.

It was this kind of stress that brought them both outside for a cigarette break. In Clyde's case, it was small cigars.

'I'm telling you Link, if we keep going like this, we'll be in charge of the whole process relating to Ace Savvy, it's only a matter of time'

Their breaks mostly involved them both indulging in being kids, nerd stuff mostly. And by both of them, it's mostly Clyde doing the talking, & Lincoln throwing in his typical one to two worded answers, with the occasional full sentence added for dramatic effect.

They were an odd pair.

'Hair'

'I'm sorry?'

'Ace Savvy's Hair'

'You're right, we should probably make an effort to bring back his pompadour'

They all felt insulted when the CEO called for a total rehaul on Savvy, his hair being the first to go. They were going to bring it back.

Lincoln had done it. He brought back his childhood Ace Savvy. He could just feel the joy emanating from his skin. It was a pleasant heat.

But soon was confronted by a smug Lyra hiding behind a veneer of false empathy & an apologetic Lemy who looked like he was about to cry.

'Hey dad?'

Uh oh.

'Look, don't get mad or nothing, but we called a woman today…'

Lemy made a face that looked like his arm were being twisted behind his back. It was distain towards his sister.

'And she wants to talk to you… she called herself Ronnie-Anne?'

Lincoln immediately threw up on his shirt.


	5. Maniac

A BLIP is a word Lincoln Loud has grown to fear. The very word itself sends a chill up his spine. A sort of post traumatic stress activates within him & he immediately goes into cold sweats. He couldn't remember the last time he had a BLIP.

Oh yeah.

Luna…

It had happened after the funeral. Lincoln has spent five whole days convinced that he was talking on the phone to his angel in purple.

They were just… talking…

About nothing in particular. Lincoln would ask how she was going with her career in the spotlight. She said she missed him. That she'd be home soon.

This continued for days. It had worried Clyde that his best friend was so traumatized. So desperately in love with someone that he was convinced she was still alive.

Lincoln's last interaction with this version of Luna came in the form of a text message. He had been so adamant to prove to Clyde that she was still alive that when he showed him his phone with the context of a new message, he was baffled to find there was no message.

It was as if he had woken up from a trance. His vision expanding back to its proper state. And he was his normal self again.

Same old depressed Lincoln.

BLIPS, as they were called in psychology, are brief states of psychosis caused by excess stress. Something that Lincoln knew only too well.

Which is why his latest BLIP caused him undue pain. He had screamed at his daughter.

_Screamed_ at her.

He had somehow gotten it in his mind that she wasn't really his little girl. He remembered the bright-eyed little girl full of wonder that him & his love were raising their baby.

He remembered her first word.

'Daddy' she had called him one day.

Daddy… she hadn't even said it right. It came out as more of a "Dae-dy". As if she was some kind of southerner.

It was a memory he cherished to this very day.

He didn't even care that she had pronounced "Mommy" before she could "Daddy".

He missed that apartment. It was just him & his family. Against the world.

The smell of stale apple sauce & pine scented air freshener laid thick in the air. The way they just sat around the table, eating their dinner, & just talking. Lyra, in her own way, sat in her highchair babbling away as if she knew exactly what they were talking about.

Mind you, she did say more than he did.

But when he saw the look of satisfaction in her eye when they told him about Ronnie-Anne…

That wasn't the girl he knew.

It wasn't his daughter.

She had been _replaced._

That _thing_ wasn't his baby girl.

'WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH HER?'

He screamed. He screamed until his lungs hurt. He screamed until the thing that replaced his daughter left his apartment. He screamed until his neighbors had called the police. He screamed as he was being forced into the ambulance by paramedics. Then he screamed some more.

It wasn't until they sedated him that he could get air back into his lungs.

Until he realized how much of a fool he had been. It had been twelve years since she officially recognized him as her father. She _had _to have changed in some respects. _Especially _personality-wise.

And she did.

She probably hated him for what he had done to them.

But for some reason…

She didn't.

She couldn't bring herself to hate him after what she had done. _She _caused this. If only she had been less malicious & more benevolent with the way she had expressed things.

God would shun her for what she had done.

Commandment No. 4:  
'Honor Thy Father & Mother'

She had failed her God. And…

She supposed she had failed her father as well…

She kept on thinking that she had him dead to rights. That she could leave with her brother the very moment they left the hospital. To see their father…

But then she thought of the look in his eyes when he had screamed at her. The tears he shed when he realized a false truth.

He could have sworn that she wasn't his spawn.

In that very moment she realized something.

Maybe it wasn't entirely the fact that she needed a father figure; maybe it was the fact that he needed them. She couldn't imagine a life where her brother wasn't in the picture.

Lisa was the first to show up. It was strange how truly close she was to the man. Lyra was pretty sure the woman knew the man better than he knew himself.

When she told her what happened she was baffled by what she had said. She had told her the truth.

Rather than change the truth to suit her situation, she had told her exactly what had happened. Her guilt was ever present in her tone.

Lisa was ever emotional in lecturing her niece. A spark contrast to her usual demeanor, her voice was shifting with extreme emotion.

'What makes you think you can treat your father like this?' she stated in her cold voice. She had extreme contempt towards her niece & nephew. Why would they do this to such a wonderful man?

Lulu, on the other hand, had snuggled up to Lincoln, who himself was strapped by belts to his hospital bed for his own safety, & the safety for his family, friends & the hospital staff. Lulu, of course, paid no attention to this, & strangely enough began to pad at his chest with her fingers.

Lemy himself was heartbroken to find his father in such a state. He could only focus on the form that was his sleeping father, the straps that held him down, & the muzzle that covered his face. It was as if he was a _danger _to them.

Why would anyone try to bite anyone? Let alone his dad…

He felt like he should probably hit something right about now. Probably the wall or something. Or maybe he should headbutt one of the asshole doctors that strapped him to the bed.

Or maybe his sister…

No. No he couldn't do that to her. Even though she caused this whole mess, & that she was a total bitch…

He still wouldn't fall to her level of bad.

Lyra's grief couldn't be any lower. At least that's what she thought.

Until she found out about the BLIPs.

'Your father has a few problems. He is going to need your full support when this is over'

The next three days were something of a blur; & at the same time, were the longest of Lyra's life.

Lincoln would not say a word to Lyra when he was finally released. It wasn't really much of a struggle to let him out considering his sister was the renowned Dr. Lisa Loud.

It strangely hurt to not hear her father talking to her. Although it hurt even more for her brother to say nothing more than a 'Goodnight' & a 'Thank You' when the situation demanded it. She

felt like she was pure evil. Jesus would make her the first to be sent to hell.

'So… how's your dad?'

Muffy felt weird talking to Lemy about this. She hardly knew the boy & yet she felt inclined to at least make small talk with him. She owed him at least that much.

She was worried about the family in Apartment 3C. Lincoln had oddly enough been the father figure she needed in her life. He was someone who she could confide in, although he wasn't exactly one for talking back; more nodding & being a shoulder to cry on when she needed it.

So, when she heard screaming coming from across the hall, her mother had immediately called the ambulance (as opposed to what the other proprietors of the third floor did), knowing _exactly_ what was happening in the "Loud" household across the way.

And it scared her beyond all belief. Lincoln was in pain.

Her own dad wasn't really there for her when she needed him. He swore a lot & smelled terrible most of the time; what her mother had stressed to Lincoln pertained from his addiction to a certain drink.

She watched the boy as he made his move in Trivial Pursuit. He was terrible at the game, knowing only two answers, one of which related to video games. Didn't stop him from trying extra hard though.

He tried so very hard playing the game. He needed something to get his mind off his situation; unfortunately, the game required an number of smarts which he did not own.

Not that it mattered in the long run. He couldn't keep his mind off his father's situation.

Aunty Lisa had said something about his dad having "Skits-O-Friendia" & being prone to these things called BLIPS.

He wished he could actually understand what his dad was going through. And if he were honest, looking at the girl in front of him was the first thing that came to mind when he thought of the word "distract".

Lyra's brain hurt. She was pretty sure there wasn't a single person on earth that could feel as guilty as she did at that moment. She watched her poor father as he sat in his chair looking dead in the eyes.

She wished for any distraction to take her away from her accountability.

A knock at the door wasn't exactly what she had in mind, but she supposed it would do for the time being.

'Linky!' she heard a voice behind the door cry. She could already tell that it was one of her aunts.

The single moment Lyra opened the door, her aunt Leni burst in with extreme vigor, & a single purpose:

Find her brother & give him the biggest hug he had ever felt.

Lincoln himself had pretty much fallen asleep with his eyes open on his recliner as he was lifted up by his seemingly unbreakable sister; her grip on his frame squeezing both air & life out of his spindly body.

She had a strength in her unmatched by anyone he had ever met. In fact, he was pretty sure his sisters set her on his primary school bullies; a strange determination in her being to kick anyone's ass who messed with her brother.

Although he lacked oxygen, he took solace & comfort in her embrace. He even managed to squeeze out a small greeting.

'Hi Leni…'

Leni had called her family over fifty times, without exaggeration, about the situation involving her little brother. Seeing him strapped to the hospital bed once more had caused her immense stress unlike any she'd felt before.

She was one of the first to find out about the illicit love affair between brother & sister. And in her truest fashion, she saw it as nothing but pure love. She saw absolutely no reason for anyone to stand in the way of such a relationship & supported it full throttle when the rest of the family found out.

So, when she sat down to finally have a conversation with her wonderful brother, it remained what it was always destined to be. One sided in the favor of Leni.

By which, of course, Lincoln hardly spoke a word, & Leni's mouth when into twelfth gear wondering if Lincoln was okay or not.

However, this quickly devolved into a conversation about fashion, & what new clothes Lincoln should wear on his next outing. Which he quickly established that it would be an odd thing to happen if he were to leave his house.

Time passed quicker than Leni would have appreciated, mostly because she was driven by Lori to see her brother.

Lori had a sort of love-hate relationship with her brother. If one were to ask her, she would immediately state that she didn't have a brother, or that he was dead to her. However, the very moment she heard news of Lincoln's hospitalization; she was almost as hard to deal with as Leni. So, when the time came for her to pick Leni up, a silent agreement was made between Lincoln & Lori.

A sort of "I Love You" look. The kind that, without words, says "I still want you as my brother".

Lincoln didn't smile, but his eyes told the whole story.

He was broken, but he was content.

He had his sister back. Sort of…

Lyra hadn't made her presence known while her aunts arrived & left. She didn't exactly feel like it was the right moment to talk to them.

Especially considering her crimes against her father.

So, when they finally left, she decided to do something that she hadn't done in the entirety of the time she was here.

She was going to have a conversation with her father. Without the presence of her younger brother for support.

She didn't realize this, but this was the first time that she had ever recognized that Lemy was supporting her, rather than the other way around.

Looking around the room, she tried to find something to fill her mind while she thought of a topic.

She found a clock.

There were three of them in the living room, & in a strange sense of revelation, she thought she finally shared something with her father. Their enjoyment of clocks. And while it might not be the same reason, it was something in common at the very least.

They were just so soothing to look at.

'I'm sorry' she blurted out without too much more thought. The mentally hit herself in the head, wondering if there were a nearby crowbar to beat herself with for such a stupid statement.

Lincoln himself looked up to his little girl. He could actually see her now, for the first time in what felt like forever, he saw his little girl. He thought back to when she was in her third year of life. She had knocked over a tall chair & broke one of the legs on it. This was just the kind of way she apologized.

So, he did as he had done all those years ago…

He played dumb.

'Oh? And what are you sorry for?'

He had a familiar smugness in his voice that had both an air of parental authority & fatherly love. She felt so much joy in hearing such a familiar tone.

'I'm sorry for causing you a psychotic breakdown'

He could have laughed. Out of context that sentence felt ridiculous. Who would simply apologize for something so extreme? But he forgave her. Hell, he felt she didn't even need his forgiveness. There wasn't even a reason for her to be apologizing. _He_ should apologize to _her._

But he didn't.

It was a sort of unspoken agreement between the two. In a strange way, her apologizing to him was a way for him to say it back. His eyes said it all, & she was totally fine with it.

They had both made huge strides in their relationship. He just needed to finish it with a bang.

'I forgive you'

And there it was. Three simple words. Most people would feel appalled by the basic structure.

But not Lyra.

The sentence was more than enough for her.

She felt like she could hug the man, but they didn't feel like they were quite there yet. Not yet.

But their smiles said it all. That was all the hugging they really needed for the moment.

That & the tears that dripped out of her eyes, leaving mascara trails down her face. This made her happy, knowing that while this man wasn't really the ideal parent she could have wanted, he'll do. At least for now.

And it wouldn't exactly stop her from expressing her issues with his parenting.

She chuckled at that thought. She supposed she hadn't changed all that much. She just felt a familial bond with the man on the reclining dark green lounge chair.

It felt familiar. As if she were a toddler again. It was sad knowing her mother wasn't with her anymore; but she supposed a piece of her would be in her father.

And that was enough for her.

The next day was a simple one for Lincoln. He decided he would try working from home, at least a little bit so he wouldn't be behind on his next commission for his company.

Lyra was reading her Bible for what may have been the sixteenth time, reciting several passages in the hope that either Lincoln or Lemy would take them into consideration, or at least memorize one or two of them.

Lemy himself found solace in video games as per usual. He started school tomorrow & wanted his mind as open as it could be for the day to come. Which was why he ended up playing a game about Nuclear Annihilation.

Lincoln for once, actually felt pleased with the way his home life had become, somehow, someway, his apartment had become livelier. Homier. This was his life now, & although he felt like something was missing, he supposed he could get used to it.

A knock at the door, however, spurred him out of his thoughts.

'Hello?' he approached the door with a careless visage.

'Lincoln? Is that you?' He heard the voice behind the door & stopped dead in his tracks.

The very woman who caused all the panic he had received in the past week was standing just behind this door. She had come all the way from Great Lakes City just to arrive at his apartment.

His sanctum.

His home.

Violated.

_No. _He steeled his will. He wasn't about to have another BLIP. Not now. He calmed himself down & opened the door.

There she was. Ronnie-Anne Santiago. Dressed entirely in a waitress getup, looking as beautiful as he remembered. He almost lost it then & there, remembering their failed relationship in full detail.

'Bobby told me everything' she shuffled awkwardly in her shoes.

'Can I come in?'


	6. Mind's Eye

Lincoln knew the dishes were clean. He just needed something to do. Which was precisely why he was washing clean dishes in even cleaner water.

Lyra, on the other hand, was positively dumbfounded by her father's actions. Ever since Ronnie-Anne left, Lincoln got out all his dishes & started on the pots. This cycle continued four times before now.

She felt like she should tell him that there was a perfectly good dishwasher next to the sink, but on the other hand, she felt he needed to work this one out of his system.

At least Lemy found enjoyment in watching his father go, thinking that his dad was cooler for making dishwashing interesting. Rinse, wipe, slide, next dish. Rinse, wipe, slide, next dish. It was almost faster than the naked eye could handle. Every move much like a figure skater on ice. He remembered his mom telling him about their father's figure skating days. He assumed that his uncle & father being one in the same meant that Lincoln was the brilliant Ice Savant he had heard of.

Lyra peered to Lincoln. His eyes were laser-focused on the clock above the sink.

'Oh' she thought. This made perfect sense. She felt she should watch him though, lest he hurt himself again.

It was strange having Ronnie-Anne over. The entire time there was this air that surrounded them both. While Ronnie-Anne seemed both worried & angered, Lincoln seemed frightened & happy. He was holding it together pretty well while she was here.

'So… how've you been?'

'Good'

Her father began to sweat rather visibly, while his mind ran wild with things to say. What have you been up to lately? What did you want to talk about? Have any new flames?

…

…I love you.

That last one hurt Lincoln. It hurt him in so many different ways. Within him he felt it to be some Lovecraftian beast unable to be described in words. He. Just. Hurt.

Ronnie-Anne must have seen his inner turmoil (He wasn't exactly good at hiding his emotions), & out of some miracle allowed him some brief relief by filling up the air with conversation.

She had learnt a long time ago that Lincoln was a creature of few words; he had lost his previous persona of happy-go-lucky, Lori referring to him as "A soulless husk of his former self".

He stopped talking to her after that. At least until his previous hospital visit.

After a while, he had managed to actually begin a small conversation with her. It wasn't much, more or less small talk, but it was enough to get some words out of him.

'So… family man now?' she gestured to the obviously eavesdropping children "playing" a video game, or "reading" a book.

'Yeah. Something new…'

Lincoln wanted to kick himself so hard that he'd see the curvature of the Earth. Why was it so hard to speak?

'It's just Ronnie-Anne' he tried to tell himself. That there was nothing to be afraid of.

He began sweating bullets.

'Look… we might as well get this over with'

He steeled himself for the brunt to come. To anyone else it would look like he was constipated, but Ronnie-Anne knew.

She knew that he was about to crack.

'I came over becau-'

'I love you!'

Ronnie-Anne didn't expect that.

Neither did Lincoln.

Nor his dumbfounded children.

'I- if you just- okay.'

Ronnie-Anne had lost her train of thought, while Lincoln was stuck in his own.

He was cheating on Luna.

He wouldn't forgive himself.

He couldn't forgive himself.

So, he pointed to the door, & uttered "please".

'I-I'll call you later…' she muttered while she stumbled drunkenly towards the door.

Lincoln did what any sane thinking individual would do in the situation. He stood up, & started removing all his dishes from the cupboard, stacking them neatly upon one another, until they rose to eye level, & began washing.

That was two hours ago. And Lyra was beginning to worry for her father.

While Lemy was talking about some world record for dishwashing, Lyra noticed that the dishwater had begun to run red. Wasting no time she gripped Lincoln's steadily oozing hands & brought him over to the couch. She was quite sure that Lincoln hadn't even noticed.

'I'm stupid, aren't I?'

This had caught Lyra off guard. It was a somewhat normal sentence, considering the situation. Was he stupid? A bit strange? Definitely. Unstable? Most certainly. But stupid?

Honestly, it wasn't something she'd even considered the man to be.

'A little bit, yeah'

In her life, Lyra had worked out the perfect glare. One so perfect it would make the most hardened soldier quiver in defeat. It held a ton of anger, a few scoops disappointment, & just the slightest touch of sadness.

It was the kind of glare that made you feel not only threatened, but also disappointed in yourself, & the key to making the glare work was that it caused the recipient to feel quite guilty; as if the glare itself begged the question: "Where did I go wrong?"

Lemy, however, had discovered an immunity to this glare, be it his own ignorance or stupidity, Lyra knew not.

'You don't tell a girl straight out that you love her, that's just bad form' he continued, Lyra's glare only hardening with every syllable he spoke.

'You gotta feel the flow, & never do it on the first date'

This innocence sparked something in Lincoln. Something he had long since forgotten.

He laughed.

Not the pathetic chuckle one gets in a dire situation, no; but a full, powerful belly laugh that's brought out from only the deepest jokes, or silliest situations.

He felt immense joy & sadness while he searched his mind for something to latch onto. Tears flooded his eyes as his mouth opened wide to let out the sound buried deep.

Lemy had absolutely no idea what he was laughing about. He didn't think he said anything funny, & if he were honest, it kind of ticked him off. But somehow, his laugh managed to be infectious enough to lack any need for fuel, & Lemy joined his dad in his laughing fit.

Lyra was just confused.

After slowing down, Lincoln began to cry softly, pulling in his children in a light group hug.

Lyra was even more confused, but somehow managed to enjoy the rare moment of affection their father seemed to emit, even though it was intermixed with throaty sobs & bloodied knuckles.

Lyra was in mother mode almost immediately after she noticed his knuckles once more. Within the span of twenty-three seconds, Lincoln had his hands wrapped in gauze & bandages, fully disinfected & on their way to healing.

He hadn't even told her where the First-Aid Kit was.

After a few odd attempts to get up (Lemy had proven to be exceptionally cuddly given the circumstance), Lincoln managed to stand, tottering towards his landline.

He steeled his will. If he wasn't going to do it, he'd force himself to.

He had memorized the number after all.

Ronnie-Anne had taken her afternoon shift off work. Honestly, she couldn't think straight in any situation.

Her past love who had almost literally exploded had just told her that he was in love with her.

Again…

It felt wrong & right at the same time. Not to mention that he had a relationship with sister, producing two less than legal offspring.

It wasn't illegal to sleep with your sister & produce children. It was only illegal to marry.

So, she took it at face value. If she were truly his friend, she'd look past the incestuous connotations.

She had maintained a romantic relationship with him for a year when Luna had left him, & he couldn't move past her. And, how could he? The man had two children with her, despite the unjust relations.

But why was she still sitting by her phone?

Why was she holding onto every word he muttered?

'I love you…' she muttered to herself. It felt silly to speak those words aloud.

How could this man, who she could squash like a bug with her pinkie, manage to make her feel such convoluted feelings?

If nothing else, she just wanted her friend back.

She missed the days where the two of them would sit day in & out at the skatepark. Lincoln, being a less than avid skateboarder, would sit by a tree & read comics; or play video games.

And by the time she was too tired to continue, she'd sit with Lincoln & talk about whatever.

'Whatever…'

She missed those days. So far away now.

'Twenty years…' she reflected for a second. Her own life being spun in her own mind.

Everything she saw felt like an amalgamation of everything she'd come to despise.

She wanted to be a pro skater growing up. Now she was thirty-three & working in a diner.

It hurt to think about.

She began to wonder how Lincoln had felt once Luna had left him. She wasn't _the _most successful rocker the world had known, but she was more than just local talent. She had people that knew her name. knew her songs.

She felt a lot like Lincoln in that regard. Like her life had up & left without her.

She'd always wanted a trick named after her. Something synonymous with Ollie in fame.

She had stopped skateboarding when she was twenty-five.

She did skateboard every now & again. Whenever she felt the urge she'd skate to the diner.

It made her realize something. Her last vestige of happiness lay with her memories of Lincoln.

That son of a bitch had engrained himself deep within her memories & feelings.

She felt a chuckle coming on. A dry cackle, intertwined with saline dripping drop by drop from her eyes. She wondered if this kind of breakthrough was much like what played through Lincoln's mind whenever he went through his BLIPs.

'Maybe I do love the big idiot after all…' she chortled, through her coughing fit of laughter. She'd punch him later for making her feel like such a girl; although she'd tell no one, she kind of liked that feeling. How could such a weirdo mess with her head after a few weeks & less than twelve words?

Her cracked laughter was stopped by an unknown number calling her cellphone. She answered it with a resounding & grumbling "Hello?"

'Hi' was the response, quiet as a mouse, yet louder than anything in her apartment.

It was Lincoln.

She felt stupid that she hadn't added the phone number to her contacts list. but resorted to continue the conversation with him.

Lincoln hadn't been expecting Ronnie-Anne to take charge of the situation. But it was a burden that more than happily taken from his shoulders.

In a matter of minutes, they had settled on meeting at her café after work let up to catch up properly.

And deal with other feelings that were weird, & morally questionable when the situation demanded it.

Lincoln wondered to himself whether or not it was healthy to ignore those emotions to reconnect with someone. Though he knew dwelling on such issues would undoubtably cause him to freak out.

So he ignored it.

He ignored it for the rest of the day when the phone call had finished.

He ignored it enough to actually cook dinner & have a nice meal with his kids.

'So, are you feeling alright Lincoln?' Lyra tested the waters a little. She had just recently seen this man wash dishes until his hands bled, so notably she was a little worried about him.

He responded in the affirmative, & Lyra believed him. For once, he seemed to be calm; calm enough to eat his Ravioli at least.

Finally, the day had drawn to a close & Lincoln could finally rest his sore self. Thankfully, Lyra had opted to take control of the night, with Lemy trying his damnedest to mess with the day/night cycle of the apartment.

Within seconds, Lincoln found himself drifting off into a dreamless sleep, slumped over his side, snoring into the abyss.

But something wasn't right.

He was wide awake.

He couldn't move.

He began to panic.

Until he saw her.

His angel in purple, she was clearer than anything he could see in the room.

'Lincoln. Why did you cheat on me?'


End file.
